


Level 10

by Cerdic519



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hell, dante's inferno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 04:43:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4652730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the recent and horrible events in Minneapolis. Crowley has made a new addition to his lair......</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, just had to write this.

Crowley sighed heavily. Honestly, you just couldn’t get the staff these days. His last trainee who was supposed to be in charge of the exchange areas was so dumb, the King of Hell had doubted whether he should have been left in charge of himself. And this one was little better.  
   
“Look”, he said exasperatedly, “it’ll be easier if I just demonstrate. Come with me!”  
   
The young demon – Philip, or something beginning with 'P' – scuttled after him as he swept into his private elevator. After dropping for what seemed like an eternity, it finally stopped with a cheerful ding, which the King of Hell had not yet found a way to stop (though he had managed to end the dreadful ‘muzak’ that had come with the contraption; humans had some horrible ideas at times!). He strode out into a large but empty room, which had four elevator doors along each side. The ones on the left were labelled Up, each of the words with a cheerful white halo over them, whilst the others were labelled Down, this time each with a set of little red horns above it. There were also letters A, B, C and D below each Down.  
   
“This is the transfer area”, Crowley explained. “Souls from heaven register their interests and who they wish to see get punished, and we book them in a time….”  
   
“You let the upstairs lot come here?” Philip exclaimed, aghast.  
   
Crowley gave him a long look.  
   
“Sorry for interrupting, Mr. Crowley”, the young demon said nervously in his best please-don’t-explode-me-into-a-million-pieces voice.  
   
“Of course”, Crowley said. “That is the point. Eternal suffering is that much more intense when it’s being inflicted by someone who hates you. Now, the four up elevators are just to cope with the volume, but the four down ones each have only certain floors they reach. Let us start with Elevator A.”  
   
+~+~+  
   
Philip followed his master out into…. well, the gray. It was not dark, just gray, like walking into an impossibly thick fog. A large red ‘Level 1’ glowed from next to the elevator, which he was relieved to see stayed open when they stepped out.  
   
“The first circle of Hell”, Crowley explained. “Limbo. Reserved for those who have been faithless, but not unfaithful.”  
   
“What is the difference, Master?” Philip asked.  
   
“This is where we send those who made a conscious choice to have no guiding principles in life”, Crowley said. “Upstairs doesn’t really worry which religion you choose – provided you don't use it to hurt others, of course - or even if you’re an atheist, but those who live purely for their own ends are frowned upon. This is also the only level that those here do not get tortured in. It’s just eternal grayness.”  
   
“It looks very boring”, Philip said.  
   
“That is the point”, Crowley said. “Mind-numbing tedium, for those with no minds. It drives them crazy. Come, let us proceed.”  
   
The young demon was glad to follow his master, and return to the main room to take the B elevator.


	2. Chapter 2

“Level 2”, Crowley said at the ding. “Lust.”  
   
“We still punish people for that?” Philip asked, surprised.  
   
“Not so much for lust itself”, Crowley explained, “but people are traditional, and expect the old names. Those sent here are….”  
   
There was a scream, and a scantily-clad woman fairly sprinted out of the mist and raced past them. Seconds later, a panting and somewhat overweight old man can hurrying after her.”  
   
“The people here are told that they can get to Heaven if they can persuade someone here to love them for real”, Crowley grinned. “What they don’t know is that all the people they pursue are the victims of their lustfulness in their old lives, disguised to look like the man or woman of their dreams.”  
   
“That sounds cruel”, Philip said.  
   
Crowley gave him a long, hard look.  
   
“And highly effective”, Philip added quickly.  
   
“Hmph!” Crowley said. Back to the lift. We have lots more to see.”  
   
+~+~+

“Level 3. Gluttony.”

Philip was most definitely surprised. They seemed to have emerged into some sort of restaurant, where the owner had clearly had a red fetish. Various people were sat round eating what looked quite decent food, yet they all looked depressed.

“You make them eat food they don't like?” the young demon asked. Crowley grinned.

“Worse”, he said. “We make them eat food they do like. Though if they can eat enough of it, we tell them that they may get out.”

Philip would not have been put forward for this position had he not had at least some sense. He thought for a moment.

“I see”, he said. “And having nothing but the same food for all eternity – yes, I can see how that would not be very pleasant.”

“Especially when they see the queue for the restaurant toilets”, Crowley said, leading the way back into the elevator.

+~+~+

They seemed to have arrived in what looked like a pretty regular office, with cubicles and people on the phones. The sign next to the elevator read 'Level 4: Greed'.

“This is where we put those who were greedy enough to acquire and then abuse positions of power”, Crowley said, twirling his recently-acquired moustache. “Bullies, corrupt government officials, jobsworths – anyone who is rewarded with power over others, and uses it to evil ends.”

“And you tell them that there may be a way out?” Philip asked.

“From Levels Two through Five we do”, Crowley grinned. “I believe that humans have a saying; it is the hope that kills you. They can earn a promotion out of here with enough positive feedback, but of course, negative feedback undoes all that.”

Philip looked at the nearest man, who was trying to explain to a clearly irate customer how to solve his problem. And failing.

“It's impressive that humans came up with this form of torture all by themselves”, he mused. “We didn't, you know, give them any hints?”

“All their own work”, Crowley said proudly.

+~+~+

Level 5. Anger.

The yelling could be heard from inside the elevator, and Philip braced himself before stepping out. They emerged into a run-down corridor in what was apparently a block of flats. It looked fairly normal, except that next to each door was what looked like some sort of steam valve, each with a red light in the middle.

“This is where we put those who yielded to anger, and inflicted pain on others”, Crowley said. “In order to get out, they have to manage a whole day without losing their temper.”

“That doesn't sound too difficult”, Philip said cautiously.

The sound of what might, in a charitable moment, have been called music suddenly erupted from one of the rooms, making the young demon jump in fright. There was a roar of anger from a nearby room, and the valve outside that door let off a hiss of steam, the light on it flashing red.

“Loud music, babies crying, dogs barking, people arguing”, Crowley said. “Oh no. There's no escape from here. We shall have to go back now, and start with the lower levels.”


	3. Chapter 3

Elevator C creaked ominously as it slowly descended. Philip braced himself for what he would find, but when the doors pinged open, he was most definitely surprised. They had stepped out into an old-style classroom, with a large number of bored-looking people sat on the benches.

“Level 6”, Crowley said. “Heresy.”

“Betrayal of beliefs?” Philip asked.

“Not exactly”, Crowley said. “These people also abused power, but for much viler ends. They knew the truth, but their own beliefs led them to not just deliberately ignore the facts, but to cover them up and lie to other people about them. Innocent people suffered and died because of their delusions. Religion and science equally; both are as bad as each other.”

Philip looked around the classroom, and got it.

“Ah”, he said. “And their victims now get to come and lecture them about the actual facts?”

“Exactly!” Crowley beamed. “And since they are stuck to those benches, they have to just sit there are take it! Just like everyone else did during their miserable lives. This is a very popular sector for those upstairs. Onward and downwards!”

+~+~+

Level 7. Violence.

“Surely all humans are violent at one time or another?” Philip asked as they stepped out into a suspiciously plain-looking gray corridor. There was a large metal door at the far end labelled Exit, and two red lines painted on the metal floor that ran all the way up to it.

“Yes”, Crowley admitted, “but that's not what this level is for. This is reserved for those who are violent, but use others to achieve their ends by inflicting pain and suffering on those who dare oppose them. That is why it is known locally as the Despot Zone.”

Now he was closer, Philip could see that there were faint red marks along the corridor. He belatedly got it.

“It's the Run of the Gauntlet”, he said. “The victims line up either side and get to attack the person trying to escape. But surely anyone determined enough....”

“The rule is that if they put so much as a knee to the ground, they have failed”, Crowley interrupted. “There is no escape for such people. Come!”

+~+~+

They seemed to have emerged into some sort of bank vault. A very large bank vault, almost a sea of dollar bills. Philip could see some people struggling to keep themselves above the paper.

“Level 8, Fraud”, Crowley explained. “Worse than violence. Here we keep people who greatly increased the sum of human suffering for their own gains, and who did not repent. Mostly it's money, but we do have a few specialized sections for particular offenders.”

“What are they?” Philip asked.

“The inventors of such tortures as the 'helpline' and spam”, Crowley grinned. “The latter has to spend all eternity checking his emails for one telling him he is released, amid all the free offers for Viagra!”

+~+~+

Level 9. Treachery. 

Well, there was no suffering here. In fact there was a group of souls, calmly discussing something or other.

“Originally this was just for extreme acts of betrayal”, Crowley explained. “But those were few and far between, so we expanded it to include anyone who fitted two or more of the criteria for the levels above. The people who were their victims in life get to come here and devise a super-excruciating punishment for their assailants. As I said earlier, I don't think much of humanity, but they are way better than us when it comes to inventive cruelty.”

“I thought there were only nine circles of hell?” Philip asked. “But we still have the last elevator.”

Crowley's face darkened.

“Yes”, he said sourly. “Level 10 is a recent addition. Brace yourself, lad. This is not going to be pretty.....”


	4. Chapter 4

Elevator D took them so far down, Philip began to wonder if it would ever stop. When it finally did, they emerged into a large and very crowded room. Philip stared in shock.

“These people are alive!” he exclaimed.

“Welcome to Level 10”, Crowley said. “The Occurit Excrementa Level.”

Shit happens, Philip thought. 

“You let living people come here?” he asked, confused.

“Not for their souls”, Crowley said. “That's part of the deal with Heaven. It takes a great deal of power to keep the portals between the demonic world and Earth open, and God offered us a deal here. For every person who comes down to take part here, we get a small power allowance.”

“Take part in what?” Philip asked. He noticed that some of the people, those at the front of the queue, were being kitted out as mercenary soldiers. An old woman was very cheerfully tossing a grenade into the air, it looking somewhat incongruous against her blue rinse.

“This level is reserved for the very lowest of the low”, Crowley said. “You see, lad, there are some humans – very few, thankfully – who are so pure and good that they put even the saints to shame. People who are destined to become saints themselves one day, and major ones. But that means, of course, that there are others who don't like that, and who stoop to attacking them. A few months back, a couple of them mugged one such man. And now they're here.”

“Dead?” Philip asked.

“They probably wish they were, thinking it'd end their suffering”, Crowley said sourly. “They are wrong in that belief. Meanwhile, every night they get hunted down by the supporters of the man they attacked. Chased through the urban jungle and torn apart, limb from limb.”

Philip shuddered. The door on the far side opened, and the kitted-out people actually ran through it, led by the grenade-tossing grandma, the rest of the line moving up as they went.

“They deserve everything they get!” he said fervently.

“I agree”, Crowley said. “Now, back upstairs. I hope you were paying attention, as there's a wee test you have to take before you can start.”

Philip gulped.


End file.
